No Such Thing As Ghosts
by Lavinia Swire
Summary: In an old house at Halloween there's no knowing what your imagination may conjure up. But there's really no such thing as ghosts…is there? Cora, Mary, Edith and Sybil aren't quite sure. Happy Halloween, everyone!


**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Happy Halloween, Downtonians! I had so much fun writing this – hope you enjoy reading. (Thanks to the awesome AriadneO for betaing!)**

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><p><em>Every old house has its secrets. Its secret passages, its ghosts. The corridor where you're always sure there's someone behind you, though the carpet's too thick for you to hear footsteps. The room that's always cold, or that has a stain on the floorboards that can never be cleaned. Perhaps there are rumours of tormented maids or ladies jilted by their lovers – stories told every year, embellished a little each time and tutted over by those far too sensible to believe in ghosts. <em>

_Every old house is haunted, and Downton Abbey is no exception. _

Halloween night. The dinner had ended, the family was in the drawing room, and the talk had turned, as it always did on that night, to ghosts and ghouls.

"Do you think this house is haunted?" Sybil asked eagerly. "I should like to see a ghost, shouldn't you?"

"I certainly should not!" Violet snorted. "No sensible ghost would waste its time haunting me. If one tried it I would give it a piece of my mind. I have no time for Halloween; tawdry American rubbish."

"There's no such thing as ghosts, anyhow, not even at Halloween," Mary added.

"Well -"Edith began. Mary turned on her.

"You don't really believe that, do you, Edith? Ghosts and spectres and all that rubbish. It's only people who don't know any better and who allow their imaginations to run away with them."

"My uncle always used to say that Downton Abbey was haunted," Robert remarked. "He saw a footman in the outer hall once and was about to ask him what he was doing when he turned, walked straight past him and vanished through the wall. There was a footman who had worked here and died whilst in service. Uncle always swore that it was his ghost he'd seen that day."

Edith shivered. Violet sniffed.

"Well, I shall leave you to your talk of ghosts; I must get back. I can assure you that, while the management here may have deteriorated somewhat since I was in charge," – she stared at Cora accusingly – "no ghost would have the temerity to haunt _this_ house."

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><p>Sybil sat in front of her bedroom mirror that night, combing her hair. Normally Anna would have done it, but she had sent her away early. Her mother had told her about the old Halloween trick of combing your hair by candlelight while looking in the mirror to see the face of your future husband, and Sybil had been too curious to resist trying it for herself.<p>

She sat for half an hour, growing more and more sleepy and struggling to keep her eyes open, but no face visualised behind her.

"It's just a silly game," she told herself firmly. But she couldn't help looking closer, trying to make the darkness into faces in her mind.

The shadows danced faster behind her.

Without warning a face shifted and appeared, looking over her shoulder. Sybil gasped. Two eyes glowed out at her – the candle and its reflection? A trick of the light? Surely that was all.

The silhouette of a hand stretched upwards, towards her, the fingers flexing.

Sybil dropped her comb, clapping her hands to her mouth. She stared again – the face and the hand had vanished. Picking up the candle, she tried to hold it steady, but her hand was shaking. The image had disappeared, and now there were only flickering shadows once again.

Had she just imagined it? Perhaps her mind was over-fuelled with Halloween stories and was conjuring up ghostly spirits lurking in corners. But the hand reaching out…it had been so real…

Sybil slept with the light on that night.

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><p>"Edith, come in here a moment."<p>

Edith peered into the drawing room, then entered. Mary was standing next to the table, which was covered with a large cloth.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Mary smiled calmly and pulled the cloth off the table to reveal a large board covered with letters, with a tiny three-pointed stand resting on top.

"It's an Ouija board. Aunt Rosamund left it here last time she visited. We can have a séance."

"A séance! Mary, I don't think we should."

"Why not? It's only a bit of fun. And perhaps we shall be able to talk to a spirit, as Sybil is so convinced we might."

"I thought you didn't believe in ghosts."

"It's Halloween, Edith, don't be so dull. Anyhow, it's just a game." Hurrying around the room, Mary turned off the lights, leaving only two candles burning, pushed Edith into a chair and sat down opposite her before Edith could complain.

"Now, we have to each put our forefinger on the stand," Mary instructed in a low voice. "Then we ask if there is anybody there, and, if there is, the spirits will move the stand to the letters so they can talk to us."

Edith bit her lip, then placed her finger on the stand. Mary did the same and glanced dramatically around the room.

"Is there anybody there?"

There was complete silence. Then the stand twitched. Edith gasped loudly.

"Oh, Edith, be quiet. If you aren't then the ghosts won't come," Mary whispered, irritated. Edith privately thought it might be a good idea to both scare away any possible spirits and summon Mama and Papa by screaming, but Mary was speaking again in her previous husky tone.

"Is there anybody there?"

Again, silence. The stand jolted a little to left and right, and then slid slowly across to point at the YES.

"Spirit, show yourself."

For a horrible moment, Edith expected a spectre to loom up from behind Mary and join them at the table. Then the stand on the Ouija board moved again. It jerked to the letter G, then carried on more smoothly.

GOOD EVENING EDITH AND MARY CRAWLEY

"Good evening, spirit," Mary said politely, as though she was welcoming a guest at a dinner party. "What is your name?"

A pause.

VICTORIA

"We don't know a Victoria," Edith hissed. "Mary, please don't be so silly."

Mary glared at Edith. "Welcome, Victoria. We are pleased that you have joined us." She paused, thinking what to say next. "Do you have a message for someone in this house?"

YES

"Who?"

EDITH

Edith moaned. "Mary, you're doing it, I know you are. It's not fair."

"I'm not doing anything!" Mary widened her eyes. "What is your message, Victoria?"

"Isn't it – rather cold in here?" Edith interrupted. There was certainly a draught coming from somewhere, even though the fire was blazing.

"The spirits can have mysterious effects." Mary smiled at Edith. "Victoria, what is your message?"

THE SPIRITS ARE WITH YOU ALWAYS

Edith almost screamed.

"Mary!" she shrieked, snatching her finger off the stand and leaning back in her chair as far as she could manage without falling over. "I knew Downton Abbey was haunted! It means Patrick, I know it does."

Mary raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Edith, calm down. It was me. I opened the door a little so there would be a draught, and I was moving the stand; that was why the 'ghost' could talk." She lifted her hands to prove it, rolling her eyes at her terrified sister. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

That was when the stand jerked across the board.

"Mary, stop it!" Edith gasped. "I don't like it, it's not funny."

"I'm not -" Mary began to say.

The stand moved again, faster this time, to the letter M. Then the A.

Annoyed, Mary looked at her sister. "What's it doing? Edith, are you -"

"I'm not doing anything!" Edith reached for the stand, but it spun away and carried on moving, spelling out letter by letter: MARY CRAWLEY.

Mary tried to make a grab it, but she couldn't reach it and it skipped just in front of her fingertips.

"Stop it, Edith!"

"I'm not making it -" Edith was very pale. The stand had stopped.

MARY CRAWLEY I AM WATCHING YOU

Then it skidded right off the board and onto the floor.

Mary flung herself away from the little stand, now lying innocently next to her chair, and jumped to her feet. Edith stood up too and stared at her.

"I don't understand – you said it was you doing it."

"I was! It was me before."

Moving over to Mary, Edith bent to pick up the stand. Mary stared at her and then grabbed her wrist. The cuff on Edith's sleeve had a long thread hanging freely – it must have come out that day, and was trailing.

"Look, you've got a loose thread on your sleeve!" She tried to point, but found that her hand was shaking. "You must have – hooked it round the stand or tied it on or something."

"How could I? Don't be absurd." Edith pulled away, trembling. "You – I don't know what you've done, but I wish you hadn't!"

She snatched a candle and hurried out the room. Her footsteps faded away as she ran up the stairs.

Mary was left standing alone in the half-darkness.

_I am watching you. _

"Don't be ridiculous," she said aloud firmly. "There's no such thing as ghosts. You made up the whole thing to frighten Edith, and then she tried to get her own back. That's all that happened."

She took the last lit candle and slowly made her way out of the room.

The corridors and staircases seemed much longer and darker than usual, and her own room much larger.

She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and jumped, before she realised it was only her reflection in her mirror. Shivering, she climbed into bed, without calling Anna or changing into her nightdress. She hugged her pillow and stared up at her bed canopy.

_I am watching you. _

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><p>Cora was reading in bed when she became aware of a noise coming from the next room. The door was shut, and it was soft, but it was definitely there. She strained her ears.<p>

A woman crying softly. On and on.

Her ears must be tricking her. "Hello?"

The crying became louder.

Cora turned pale. She knew who it was. She remembered it.

Suddenly the other door burst open and hit the wall with a crash. Cora jumped.

"Sorry, darling." Robert entered. "Bit of a draught tonight; I pushed the door and it flew right open." He climbed into bed beside his wife. "I hope the girls haven't scared themselves too much with their ghost talk. Thank goodness Halloween only comes once a year, otherwise they'd be permanently scared out of their wits – Cora? Are you all right?"

Cora turned to face him, looking confused. "Robert, can you hear anything?"

"Why, can you?" Robert chuckled. "You've been infected by the Halloween spirit, haven't you? What is it, ghostly whispers or the creaking of a hangman's rope?"

Cora strained her ears. There was nothing. "I – I thought I could hear someone crying."

"Probably just the wind, or one of the maids. Despite what your mother may have told you, not all old English houses are haunted." He kissed her and switched off the light.

It was a completely still night and they were too far away from the maids' quarters to be able to make out any sound from there, but Cora certainly wasn't about to mention the details of the sounds.

She had been so sure she could hear it coming from her dressing room. Her own voice crying out again and again. Crying for her son, that day she had fallen getting out of the bath.

Cora shivered and pulled the blankets closer to her.

She didn't sleep well that night.

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><p>"Well, did anyone have any ghostly experiences last night?" Robert asked, smiling, the next morning.<p>

"No, of course not," Sybil said hastily. "Don't you remember? There's no such thing as ghosts."

Cora looked at her daughters. Edith tapped her knife on the side of her plate. Mary said nothing.

_Every old house is haunted by the voices of those long gone. The echoes and memories. _

_But there's really no such thing as ghosts…is there?_


End file.
